


Loss

by zhiyenxo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:30:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhiyenxo/pseuds/zhiyenxo
Summary: Keith wished he had done something to help.





	Loss

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE:
> 
> I don't have full experiences with depression and self harm, but I just wanted to let this idea out. I am hesitant to publish this because I fear of offending anyone. This is also my first time writing about this topic. I might delete this any moment if I feel that readers are hating this fanfic.

I first transferred to this school last Spring. My roommate, Lance McClain, was a flirtatious boy. My first encounter with him was not a pleasant one. He was untidy, loud and nosy about my life. He would go on and on about a topic, and even be able to link it to another. Ever since we met, he gave me a ridiculous nickname 'Mullet', due to my hair style. Life with him was noisy, and he never could seem to shut up. I was irritated with his outgoing personality. We were at each ends of the spectrum. I preferred my college life to be more quiet, since it was all important for my future. Yet, this particular Cuban boy would disrupt the peace. But overtime, I was able to adapt to my obstreperous roommate with the help from some friends of his. Thankfully though, Lance had his own moments of seriousness, especially while studying. But most of the time, I would occupy a seat in the school library to finish up my work. I did not socialise with Lance that much.

Our friendship only improved when the group of us took a trip down to the forest. Hunk said that it was to relax and unwind with the nature. He drove all of us in his father's van. Lance was singing to countryside tunes with them, while I stared out of the window to smell the pine trees. It was a rather long ride, so I fell asleep at some point.

My sleep was short-lived when I was slapped awake by Lance. He called out my name in his weird pronunciation and laughed at how dumb I looked. I grumbled and got out of the van with them. I took in a deep breathe, the fresh air was really soothing out there. Hunk and Pidge got about setting up the camp, while Lance and I were instructed to collect firewood. It was awkward between us, so we were mostly quiet. But sometimes, Lance would share with me about his past trips with his family. He sounded excited, but when I looked into his eyes, there was hardly any sparkle.

I did not answer him, because I was concentrated on trying to find wood, although I did listened to everything. But he suddenly jumped into my field of vision, both hands on his hips. He must have wanted me to answer him in a way.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"What? Of course."

He tutted, "You are so quiet that sometimes I don't even know if you are interested."

"Well," I stopped in my tracks, "that depends."

He frowned then opened his mouth again, as if he wanted to say more. But he shrugged and changed his mind.

"Let's get back. I think we have collected enough."

I looked at our small pile of collection, it did not seemed enough. As we walked, he was quiet. I was never the type to be able to socialise well, so my choice of words are rather brutal sometimes, I must have hurt his feelings. But I lack the knowledge to cheer him up, so I did not say anything. Maybe I did the wrong move. Maybe I should have at least tried. Maybe...

As we walked, Lance suddenly tripped over a log — the same log that he had warned me about when we first came. Out of instinct, I grabbed his arm to pull him to his feet again. But he yelped and yanked his arm away, as if I have hurt him. His face made a sudden realisation after that and he went rigid. I was about to ask if he was alright, but he shook me off and smiled with words of reassurance. I did not believe him, because I knew very well that I was not rough with him. But I could not say anything at that point, could I?

When we got back, Hunk and Pidge had finished pitching the tents and making a picnic spot. Lance rushed over to beam at the food that Hunk had made for us. I went to help the rest with starting the fire. Time past fast when we were working. Night soon fell and we gathered around the campfire to eat and roast some marshmallows. I only camped out once and it was with my middle school, so this was something rather new to me.

We chatted a lot, mostly questions about myself because I was a new student. We also shared ghost stories, and Lance would always tell the most terrifying ones. Since I did not know any, I only listened. Lance told the scariest story, but he was also the most afraid. He clung onto me the whole time since I sat next to him. I did not mind, because strangely, I wanted to give him protection. After what had happened, I figured that I should do _something_.

Lights out was at midnight. We slept in the same tent that was big enough for us boys, while Pidge occupied a smaller one for herself. Lance was next to me, at the right end of the tent. The other two slept almost instantly, giving off soft snores. I was about to fall asleep too. But I heard gentle rustlings from my left and saw Lance getting out of the tent. I was curious, and followed quietly. He did not hear me so I had no problems walking behind him. He must have thought I was asleep too. We went for a few minutes, and he stopped right in front of the edge of the cliff. I stopped too, and watched him. He did not move for a long while, like he was thinking hard. Then he inched a little closer.

"LANCE!"

I yelled unconsciously, and he turned quickly to look at me. He was surprised and returned to a safe distance from the edge.

"Did you follow me?" He asked accusingly.

"I couldn't sleep," I lied.

He then looked sympathetic and smiled, "Why don't we chat for a little bit?"

It was right then I knew that Lance was not such a bad person after all. His words were comforting even though I did not need any. I felt safe with him. And I wished he would feel the same. Our conversation did not last long because he yawned and apologised. I suggested going back to the tent and sleep. He did not reject me.

The next night, he was no where to be found. I was scared that what if he had done something dangerous. I was the only one up, pacing outside the tent quietly, not wanting to wake the other two. When Lance returned, he was visibly worn out under the moonlight. I bombarded him with questions, I did not mean to be so rush, but it had kept me on the edge. Lance wrapped himself in a shy demeanour, as if he wanted to hide something. But I could not fish the answer out of him. He ignored me and went into the tent instead.

When we got back to school after the weekends, it was like nothing had happened. Lance was back to his old, noisy self, always winking at girls and trying to get their attention. In the past, I would roll my eyes. But now, I find myself smiling at his happiness when the girls did talk to him. But no matter what he did, he never had a girlfriend. So I wondered why he would go around being that way every single day. I never asked, though.

Somehow in one way or another, we became closer and more understanding of each other. I would try my best to answer him when he shared stories. Truthfully, they were entertaining. Lance seemed to have a huge family, but no matter how many stories he shared, he had lost the glow. That was something unusual. Once, he confessed that he realised how hard I had to try to give a reply, so he told me that I should not force myself. He then made a quiet continuation of how he understood that feeling. I never asked him about that. As usual, he subsequently brushed it off and swore to teach me how to socialise. That led him to bringing me and the others out often.

On my first Valentine's Day in the school, Lance gave me a box of chocolates. I was taken aback, because we were not together, nor did he have a crush on me...or maybe he did then. I accepted it even though I did not like chocolates. When I thanked him, he blushed and stammered about going out on a date with him. I was confused about my feelings for him. Clearly, I had changed because of him, but I did not understood if I was in love. But nonetheless, I agreed. And we met at the ocean.

Weird place for a first date, but Lance once mentioned that he loved the ocean. We sat on the park bench, watching the waves crashed onto shore, leaving foamy bubbles. It was cooling and refreshing. We sat in silence, we were awkward, but a different kind of awkwardness. I decided that maybe I should make the first move.

"How long have you liked me?"

"I don't know...Maybe ever since that little trip we took."

"That was a long time ago."

Lance smiled a little, "I never expected I would fall for you like this. Since you probably followed me that night."

I recalled that very night, when Lance looked as if he was about to...fall.

"I was...worried," I replied. That was not a lie.

"Thank you. That night, I..." He paused, then laughed softly, "it was stupid."

I did not know what to reply, so I continued staring at his every expressions as they changed with his words.

"Are we...a couple now?" He looked up at me.

"I-I guess."

I was incredibly inexperienced at love. Lance was my first. He did not say another word, but leaned in closer to me. He seemed hesitant, but he crashed his lips onto mine for a long while. My heart fluttered for a bit, and I felt hot. I was starting to think that maybe I had fallen for him too. He broke free and blushed again. He was rather cute when he did.

"That was my first kiss," he said quietly.

"Same here. I like it...I like you."

I finally said it. I did it half because I wanted to make him happy, and he was. He lit up at my confession, and seemed relieved at that moment. He then looked back at the ocean. I thought that I should start asking questions, if he would be willing to answer.

"Why do you love the ocean?"

"Back when I was in Cuba, I would spend time at the ocean. I find it really beautiful. The sparkling waters, the swaying palm trees, the familiar cries of the sea gulls. I find comfort here."

"Did your family bring you out to the ocean a lot?"

"No, I ran away from home."

He was facing the front, but I could see that his face looked dead serious. I was dumbfounded. I would never have guessed that the countless stories have a hidden backstory. I could not bring myself to ask, even though I really wanted to find out. Lance did not continue, so maybe he was not ready yet. But now that I think about it, I should have tried to ask.

We went on more dates, our hearts grew fonder. Hunk and Pidge were very supportive of us all along. We did things that couples do, and I never felt lonely. Yet, no matter how much time we had spent with each other, Lance seemed alone. I could see it in his eyes. But I thought that maybe he was still trying to get used to me. We had only started being together for half a year.

A few weeks before midterms, Lance recieved a call. I stopped studying and waited for him to be done. But his face fell and told me he had something important to attend. I offered to come along, but he refused. So I let him go. I was alone for the rest of the day. He came back at night, eyes red and swollen. I ushered him to sit on the bed and he started crying again. I hugged him tight, I never wanted to let him go. When he calmed a little, I started asking.

His oldest sister had passed away. The police said that it was suicide, but Lance believed she would not have done that. He kept insisting. I was the only child, so I could not truly understand the relationship between siblings. I comforted him, I tried to. He said he regretted being away from home even though he hated it there. I could only hug him. Because I feared that one wrong move would break him apart. I would hate to see him that way.

Lance was granted a compassionate leave for a few days. I was left alone in the dorm room again. Before he left, he assured me that he would come back safe and composed. He left with a smile that I knew all too well was forced. The times I spent without him was painful. I constantly worried about his wellbeing. Wild thoughts ran through my head. Waiting for him to be back was like ages. But he returned nonetheless.

Like he had promised, he looked a little more cheerful. Maybe he had thought things through. I hoped that he had recieved help back at home. I offered to buy him his favourite garlic knots. He nodded and I left the dorm. He used to go on and on about it, because his mother baked them everytime. I thought that maybe he would feel much better after having his comfort food.

When I returned, I heard pained sobs coming from the shared bathroom. I panicked and opened the door. I did not expect the knob to turn instead of how it was always locked when he occupied it. The moment the door opened, I could smell the distinct iron stench. I saw that heartbreaking expression from Lance, with fresh tears streaming down his sunken face. But when I looked downwards, it was all red. Angry, long cuts lined up his entire left arm. Blood oozed out from the recent one, and it did not seemed to be stopping. Lance might have never wanted me to witness this because he looked utterly shocked and shrunk into the corner, not looking at me in the eyes.

I was stunned, not able to process what I had seen with my own two eyes. My beloved boyfriend and roommate was cutting, and I had not truly realised why or how long. I contemplated trying to step in, but I feared that I might agitate him. I looked down, trying to find suitable words for this situation, but I realised just how incapable I was.

"Get out."

It was a quiet warning. I looked up at him again, but he was still not facing me. I wanted to stay, to hold him tight in my arms, and to repeat how much I never wanted to lose him. Yet I was too afraid. I closed the door behind me, my heart still pounding fast in my chest. I could not do anything.

Shakily, I sat down on my bed. I clapsed my hands together on my thighs as I waited impatiently for him to come out. After what seemed like a millenium, he appeared before me, cleaned and still wearing the long sleeve flannel. He avoided my gaze as he started placing his homework on the desk.

"Lance-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

I could feel the atmosphere tensing up, and I was overwhelmed. Everything seemed like a wrong step. He sat backfacing me due to the furnitures' arrangements, so I could not read his face. I sighed and started again.

"I know you are probably feeling really stressed out. But this won't change how I view you. I still love you, Lance."

"It's not...that..."

"Then tell me. Tell me how I can help."

He paused for a moment. Then replied, "Can't we just leave this aside?"

"I'm here for you, even if there's a harsh truth."

He did not reply again. So I stood up and went over  to him. I contemplated hugging him, but I did anyways. He did not struggle out of my hold, but instead leaned closer to me. I might not know him very well, but I knew he enjoyed my hugs. I wished that at that moment, I could offer more than just hugs.

That night, I stayed up staring at the ceiling. I started piecing everything together. The thought of Lance's depression would not leave my mind. It was then I realised that Lance never once wore a short-sleeved shirt. Even his portion in the closet was never filled with any. Was he trying to hide the scars? Had he been doing this even before I came? I thought of all the stories, the ocean, and how he seemed to hate home at the same time. Then I noticed how his father was rarely in the picture. At first I thought he was busy, but now it kind of made sense. It was all because of his father, wasn't it?

Lance avoided the topic of that fateful day for a long time. But that did not stop me from keeping a watchful eye on him. I wondered if Hunk and Pidge knew about this. But I did not want to risk having Lance mad at me for telling. Somehow, in a way, everything returned to normal again. Lance was a professional at hiding. It pained me to see him act all radiant again even though he was hurting inside. I wanted to help him, maybe find a therapist, or maybe ask Hunk and Pidge. But everything seemed like a wrong move.

Everything...is not okay.

I wish I could have done something.

I wish I could have saved him.

I wish I had not lost a friend.

I wish...

But all these wishing is useless now.

Time would not turn back for me, no matter how much I pray.


End file.
